Tatta
by samasim
Summary: Ms. Tatta is admittedly a superstitious woman, and she thinks her son might have been a cat in another life.


A.N: It's finally, _finally_ done. Tell me which part gave it away as you read along. Happy birthday, Bta;).

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"I think I should have been a kitty, Momma," repeated the little boy seriously, leaning his cheek against his palm on the kitchen table. He played with the straw of his half-full glass of orange juice. "Sometimes I dream that I'm a kitty, and that I live with other cats."

His momma just sighed. She didn't yell at him. She hardly ever did, and for that his friends at school were always jealous.

His knew his momma was afraid of cats, but he thought she was just being a big baby. Momma was afraid of a lot of things that weren't scary at all.

It wasn't fair; mommas were allowed to be afraid, but not little boys?

He didn't notice the worried look his mother was giving him as he finished his juice and turned around to pull his school bag closer. He took out his coloring book and pencils, and started coloring. Inside the lines, of course.

 **oOoOoOoOoOo**

Everybody at school liked to call him Tatta, even though that wasn't the name his momma called him by. People always seemed to think he and his momma's last name was much cooler, and so after a while, he stopped asking them to call him by his birth name.

It didn't matter too much; he and his momma had to travel a lot, because she needed to find work so that they can live in a good home and eat clean food. When he was only three, they slept for several nights on the street and in the parks. His small child's memory only vaguely remembered the feeling of sickness during that time, and his momma's tired, crying face was one of the earliest images engraved in his mind.

Momma tended to cry a lot (especially when he was sick), and she also changed her mind all the time. She changed her mind about what food they were going to eat, where they were going to live, how they were going to go to school – and _if_ he was going to go to school at all - and even what they were going to wear on any day.

She was also afraid of many things he didn't understand - she was afraid of trains. She was afraid of counting to 13. She was afraid of walking under the stairs. And she was afraid of cats.

It seemed as if the only thing she wasn't afraid of was to move from place to place.

The two of them moved from place to place to place. They went to from New York to New Jersey, to Florida, to San Francisco, and back to New York. There Momma finally found a job that didn't make her cry, and got a small house for the two of them to live in.

He would start the second grade at his new school in New York, and he was excited. He'd gone to many schools before that, in New Jersey and San Francisco. School was fun - it was fun because his teachers loved him, and gave him lots of activities to do to help with the worry that always filled him. The school nurse had told his teachers that he had _transition anxiety_. He wasn't sure what that was, but he thought it meant he was worried because he never stayed at one school or one place for long.

He was proud of himself for knowing what transition anxiety meant. He was proud because his teachers loved him and said he was a smart, very smart boy. They sometimes even told his momma, 'so _bright_!' whenever there was a parents' meeting.

Sometimes his momma would also talk to the nurse in those meetings, but he was always away playing with the other kids, because it was all boring grown-up talk.

 **oOoOoOoOoOo**

The kitchen was his favorite place at home. The sunlight through the windows was brightest there, and it was warm and comfortable and the best place to color without hurting his back.

He often sat there after school, and one day, after a parents' meeting, Momma was cutting the salad, and asked him if he was no longer interested in making friends at his new school. He was confused, and said no, he loved to play with his friends.

"Mrs. Ulbrich says you don't play with the other boys as much as you used to," she asked him gently. "She says you go stand alone by the school gates. Did Bernie make you sad, again?"

"No. Bernie said he was sorry, and he's now always nice to me."

"Did any of the other boys make you sad?"

"No, Momma."

"Then don't you wanna play with them anymore?"

"I don't – I don't _not_ want to play with them," said the child, struggling a bit with the words. "I stand there because I wanna see the kitties that come, sometimes."

"There are cats next to the school?"

"Yeah, lots of little kitties."

"What do they do?"

"They look around in the trash..and they play-fight with each other and sometimes they wait for us to throw them food."

"Sweetheart, I told you it's not safe to play with alley cats. You could get hurt."

"Cats are nice," insisted the boy who'd always wanted a pet kitty of his own. "They can not see each other for a long, long time, but when they see other again they play like everything's okay. Momma, how come grown-up cats can play like little kitties but grown-up people can't?"

"Because mommas have a lot more responsibilities than alley cats, dear.

Alley cats aren't very polite, and they can scratch you and steal from you. Stay inside the school gates and don't go out when they are near the school," she warned.

Her son did not know, but she didn't want to be sharp with him. She felt like she owed him at least that much. Especially after what she had done when he was just an infant. She had been already - rather bluntly - told by the school nurse that her son's restlessness and anxiety was in large influenced by _her_ own constant state of indecisiveness. The nurse didn't care to decorate her words or make her disapproval unclear – said she took her job too seriously to care.

"I think I should have been a kitty, Momma," said the boy. "Sometimes I dream that I was a kitty, and I lived with other cats."

He told her that often, and it always made her gut twist. Her sensible side reminded her that cats were just _cats_ , for heaven's sake. That same voice told her to stop pouring her own paranoia into her guiltless son's life. But what was she supposed to do if her child turned out to have been a cat in another life? She didn't understand his dreams, or why he had them so often, but it wasn't such a far-fetched thought.

Maybe she was ridiculous, she told herself, but she was still scared.

 **oOoOoOoOoOo**

Momma would be _so_ mad if she found out he was talking to the stray kitties outside his school, but Peggy, the school nurse, told him it was fine, and that he shouldn't be afraid of everything his momma was afraid of.

He made friends with a small pink kitty named Gogo who lived a couple blocks away with his momma and big sister. Gogo usually came to play in the old swings in the little park next to the school, and he really loved pastrami.

And so it became a routine; Tatta brought him extra pastrami in his lunchbox every couple days. Gogo and his other kitty friends were wild, unruly players. They hid and pounced and play-fought and bit one another, but they never hurt one another. Sometimes Tatta would play with them for a little while before a teacher came to pull him away. He'd have a couple scratches on his arms and legs, but he'd be grinning widely.

On one breezy afternoon, Tatta found his kitty friend standing next to another tall, pink cat at the road curve a few yards away from the school gates. The tall cat wore a native feather headdress, and waved a bunch of papers in the air at the people bustling.

"Get ya treasure maps! Five cents for the map ta buried treasure!"

 _Treasure_! Tatta was thrilled - he'd always wanted to find treasure! He'd wanted to buy the new Superman comicbook, but a treasure map was for sure a better buy, because if he found treasure he'd have enough money to _also_ buy that comic, and every comic he'd ever want!

Gogo was holding a couple maps in his own paws, staring at the scribbly lines in wonder. The older cat chuckled and petted the kitten's soft head. "You can have 'em, bud."

"Thanks, Unca Chooch! Oh hiya, Tatta!"

"Hey, Goog! That's a real treasure map?" asked the blond boy excitedly.

"Yup! Unca Chooch said I could have two for free! Wanna share?"

"Yeah!" Tatta wanted to rip one of the maps out of Gogo's paws in excitement, but held himself. His momma told him it was very rude to take things before someone extends them to you.

"Unca Choo-Choo, this is ma new best pal, Tatta! Cool name, huh? He goes to that Parkway school and he wants to be an artist when he grows up..Unca?"

The cat Choo-Choo looked like someone had struck him across the face. His already-large eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"Unca Choo-Choo..?" said Gogo in a small voice, ears falling back against his head.

The pink cat shook his head roughly, as if trying to shake himself off of a hallucination. He took a step back and looked over his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" asked the kitty worriedly.

Choo-Choo for a moment seemed to not find the words. His face was a strange mix of astonishment and..something the children did not understand. "I – I jus- uh, kids, I gotta go talk to the fellas for a few minutes-" he said breathlessly.

Gogo still looked worried, and Tatta was just confused. Why did Gogo's uncle want to leave as soon as he saw him?

"You have a nice hunt, boys – I'll catch ya later," said the cat distractedly. His siamese eyes kept coming back to the boy's face, always the astounded expression in them. Then he seemed to will himself out of his stupor. He took off at a sprint, and then soon he was bounding around the corner.

"..Why did he leave?" asked Tatta, genuinely confused. The 'Bad' Worry - as Nurse Patty called it - began to nag at his thoughts, and he wondered if he had done something wrong.

"I dunno.." was all Gogo said, whiskers twitching anxiously.

 **oOoOoOoOoOo**

Tatta's spirits rose considerably as he and Gogo got more and more immersed in their treasure hunt. The Bad Worry was far away for now.

Gogo's small brown nose twitched all the time, sniffing out anything and everything. He poked his head into gutters. He peeked into ash cans and boxes in empty (and not so empty) alleys, and even tried opening an old lady's purse. He took off with his tail bristling in the air when she screamed. Tatta apologized to her and ran after him, laughing.

Their maps were hard to decipher, and the handwriting was awful, but Tatta was fairly certain they were getting close. He was pretty sure the treasure was hidden in an alley, and his little inner artist told him that the messed-up smiley face with the horn-like things next to the **X** was in fact a cat. He told Gogo that, but the kitty insisted it was a goat.

"There ain't any goats in New York, Gogo! Look, it looks like a cat in a hat. It says here that he's the treasure's protector and we should speak to him to get to the treasure.."

"It still looks like a goat to me," sniffed the kitty.

The two kids were down in the 13th precinct. Tatta, in his excitement for treasure, forgot to tell his teachers he would be playing out again with Gogo. By the time he actually remembered, the afternoon sun was already sliding across the sky. Tatta wondered if his teachers were worried about him, then he was scared when he thought they might call his momma. She didn't know he played with kitties or left the school playground at all!

"This is Unca Choo-Choo's alley!" said Gogo excitedly. He took off at a sprint, and Tatta found himself running after him.

The kids came up to a high fence that provided shelter and privacy to whatever lay beyond. Gogo jumped up and down on his feet. "It's here! It's gotta be, Tatta!"

"Your Uncle's keeping the treasure?" asked Tatta, confused by the very idea. "Why?"

"I dunno, to keep it safe, I bet," said the kitty, oblivious to how little sense that would be. "Oh boy, maybe I'll get meet Top Cat!"

"Who's Top Cat?"

"Unca's boss, but he's also his best pal. Unca Choo-Choo totally loves him. He's so _cool_ – I wanna be like 'im when I grow up!"

"Doncha wanna be like your uncle?"

"Nah, Unca Chooch's too sensi-tive.." said the kitty, and perked his ears forward. "I think I hear 'em!" Gogo began to stamp his feet on the pavement, thrilled. Over finding the treasure or meeting Top Cat, Tatta wasn't sure.

Gogo was right about the voices. Tatta could hear them, too. _"… - all stay right here, guys! Ya won' believe who I gave a map! Gosh, you're gonna be so happy!"_

More muffled words, with someone saying something that sounded a lot like: _"Like, spill it already, Chooch!"_

Tatta turned to ask Gogo if they should go into the alley, but to his shock, the kitty had gone off without seeing if he was following. Tatta turned around and ran back to the corner they had come around and looked, but there was no sign of Gogo – only busy people everywhere. He stood still for a beat, confused and a little scared.

Maybe he'd gone into the alley? It was his uncle's home, after all.

He walked back, and tried to find the entrance into the alley. He kept the tall fence to his left, and again he heard the familiar voice gush excitedly. _"Fellas, there 'e is! There 'e is! Look at 'im!"_

The little blond boy looked up at the fence, and saw a yellow cat lean over it, and stare at him with large golden eyes. One, two, three, four, five more heads popped up next to him, including Choo-Choo's smiling face. " _What did I tell ya, fellas!_ " He was smiling so big it looked like his cheeks were going to pop.

"Long time, Chahlie-boy," said the yellow cat.

 _Fin_

 **oOoOoOoOoOo**


End file.
